"Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. He embraced her like her father once had. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. "As you please, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan, with affected indifference; "but I'm not going to hunt the deer for another to eat the ven'son, depend on 't. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. But what the deuce! He was human; he was a machine only when on the hunt.
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